


let the shadow fall behind you

by orphan_account



Series: scintilla [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fights, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 00:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13043106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Deciding to face Zarkon in fight was not the best decision Keith could have made.Fortunately, Shiro is a constant presence in his life and the biggest moral support Keith can ever ask for.Day 1: "Shiro loves you, baby"





	let the shadow fall behind you

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I struggle with keeping up with my writing schedule. I hope it's at least acceptable.
> 
> My entry for the first day of _Sheith Quote Week_ is the quote "Shiro loves you, baby."
> 
> Title inspired by 'Towards The Sun' - Rihanna

One moment, he was a calm star adorning the quiet sky. A nanosecond later, he was a meteor nearing its death in the atmosphere, so hardly affected by the air that he was set aflame, becoming smaller and smaller until all that remained were particles hitting with force the Earth and destroying everything in their path. 

All Keith had known in his nineteen years of existence was how he was more a catastrophe of a human than a normal one. He was a short-living dimension collapsing onto itself and approaching an explosion. 

Staying in his proximity meant living under constant danger because he was stirred by the major changes life bestowed upon him.

Keith Kogane was nineteen years old, a Garrison student with dreams that reached higher than the furthest constellation, a broken creation with jagged corners, forever gravitating between loneliness and his team’s expectations. He was the Red Paladin. He wore the weight of the universe on his shoulder, the consequences of being chosen for the fight. 

The best soldiers were in the first line, right? Or so Lance had once told him. What was the objective if not pouring his soul when the opportunity was standing less than fifteen meters away from him? Exactly like oxygen healing a dying fire, he surged forward his lion and attacked.

Suddenly, Shiro’s advice and the hours spent trying to quell his anger, that rash behavior rising above other characteristics like smoke over a burning building, were blinded. Zarkon was before his eyes, clearer than ever, holding the improved black bayard in his hand and ready to strike.

“Keith, what are you doing? You need to come back immediately! You don’t know who you’re facing –” Coran’s voice was high, worried, but the tone and words weren’t strong enough to rein in his instincts. It might have been a disadvantage, but Keith’s hands trembled, directed by the amount of adrenaline flooding his veins. 

If it were Shiro, Keith might have listened to the order. He would have ceased the movement, retreated to safe ground with his teammates and discussed the situation from different angles. 

He didn’t.

He moved his right thumb to cut the connection to the Castle and didn’t waste a second. Losing or winning a battle was decided by usually nonsensical time measurements as pathetic, always underrated, seconds.

He was wrong. Facing a stronger opponent wasn’t a rationally thought idea. It was careless and lacked attention. It was an ‘on the spur of the moment’ decision, built on intuition alone and was crumbling down when the base began demolishing.

“You fight like a Galra soldier,” the Emperor once said, the voice strong and convinced, but still hanging on the end as if searching for a continuation, more to praise. “But it’s not enough.” Zarkon struck.

Keith had power, though he lacked discipline. He had an ocean of energy oozing through his pores, he had tactics and an unhealthy wish to fight and bare hands were the last resort when other weapons proved inefficient. 

Nevertheless, hands were not an option against magic. 

“Come on, come on!” Uselessly screaming at the Red lion wasn’t going to get them standing undeterred and prepared for the force of impact. Keith had to make the system respond to his touch or else they would both meet their end as a paladin and his lion dying alone on a Galran ship.

He didn’t bother closing his eyes, didn’t let the fear install into the roots of his body and corrode him from inside. He was going to die looking at his opponent and trying to accept the fact he was too tired to hold onto the rock standing on the edge.

He was free falling into the depths and nothing could attenuate it. Or so he’d expected, until a black gloved hand caught his wrist in a deathly grip, securing confident fingers around it and beginning to drag him to the surface.

Keith was still recovering after the impact that never came and getting accustomed to the fluctuating wave of energy relaxing his mind. He and Red were held by Shiro and Black and shielded from any other hazard.

“Are you all right, Keith?” Shiro’s voice was warm, familiar, wearing a blanket of concern the Red paladin usually wrapped himself with to face the world easier.

“I’m fine,” he wheezed out, vision still spinning and dotting in black a little. He was no longer crushed by an invisible force, pulled towards the end from where he could never return. No. He was slowly adjusting on a normal frequency, recovering after a battle – it had rattled his bones and his energy as if they were nothing more than insignificant traits. 

“What was that out there? Facing Zarkon? What the quiznack were you thinking, Keith?” Allura sounded angry, a spreading rage consuming her every word until all that remained were disappointment and a vigorous shake of the head, arms crossed, eyebrows narrowed and jaw tight.

‘ _I wasn’t_ ’, he wanted to say, but the sentence wouldn’t let itself be spoken. His mouth was dry like millions of particles of sand coated it as a second layer. 

“Let’s just, give him some space,” their leader advised, trying to quell the Princess’ emotions so they wouldn’t capture their target and burn it completely. Keith was the one meant to use the flames, actually, but igniting them with bare hands was easier than using them emotionally. “Keith acted the way he saw fit. It might have been rash. Premature – but it’s his choice to make. Over time, I’m sure he’ll learn some discipline.” 

As much as Keith wanted Shiro to chastise him, to exert more and more of that control because he could take – he knew he could, he aced it at the Garrison, so what would be different? – the man floated on his side. Always with him, always for him. 

Keith was still on the ground, unable to convince his legs to let go of hibernation and act because things were embarrassing enough already.

“Need some help, cadet?” Shiro used that remark as an exact replica of what he said the first time they met. Soaked to the skin with sweat, bodies exhausted after training, still forced to endure another hour of simulations, Keith felt his patience slip over the edge with rapidity, not too eager to return soon.

Shiro had been there. He knew. He always did.

“I’m fine.” Whispered in a shaking voice, with a ragged breath, tasting like poison on his tongue, the reply came the same as before. 

Keith didn’t dare moving his eyes to the right when the sound of Shiro kneeling was heard in the unnaturally silence of the hangar. Allura had left a minute ago, probably to talk to the others and interrogate them as well. 

They were alone.

Somehow, it felt like a revelation. It looked and tasted like one when Keith turned it around over and over again in his head. The dryness of his mouth was being slowly enveloped by water.

The enormous hand stretched towards him was an anchor. It meant stability and safety, just like its owner. 

“Shiro loves you, baby.” The declaration was a mantra playing on repeat in Keith’s mind. The left eyebrow hiding a scar from years ago, smaller and almost absent in comparison to the one adorning his face, the perfectly honest smile, filled with so much affection and love and an ethereal promise struck Keith and brought him to match the silence in the hangar. 

The hand offered to him, combined with the words and added to the real image of Shiro, of those obsidian eyes swallowing Keith’s soul like two black holes, yet hiding so much light it might have been blinding, convinced him to reach back. 

All his life, what he’d wanted was to mean to Shiro something at least equal to what Shiro meant to him – if not more. There were moments, hidden in the shadows of rooms, in the corners of smiles, or gentle touches. They existed, yet not as something palpable, but as some one time dance that left someone craving more.

“I know,” was all Keith managed until skin met skin and two asteroids, drifting through space in the same direction and at the same time, collided. 

They were human – broken by insurmountable distance and countless time – brought together by a nebula of space.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed the prompt, consider leaving a comment! Thank you!


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